Beautiful Beast (Gypsy Heroes) (10 page)

SNOW

T
he air is fragrant with the smell of flowers. Carrying torchlights we set off for the dark forest. It feels cooler under the canopy of leaves.

‘It will rain later tonight,’ Shane says.

‘How do you know?’

He glances at me. ‘The weather forecast.’

‘Right,’ I say embarrassed. I got caught up in the idea that we were in a magical place far away from civilization. Besides, there are, after all, people who can tell it is going to rain by the ‘feel’ of the air or by looking at animal behavior or observing the sky.

We take a path that is so narrow it will only accept one person at a time. I follow Shane’s broad back until we come upon a clearing with a spooky log cabin. It’s exactly how I had imagined the witch’s hut that Hansel and Gretel found in the forest would look.

Shane opens the wooden door and we are standing in a rectangular room roughly about fourteen feet by ten with a wooden board floor. The planks make a creaking sound as Shane walks on them. A large blackened stone fireplace is set into the back wall.  A fire is lit, but it is low with bits of charred wood and plenty of ashes.

‘What’s up with that?’ I ask shining my torch towards a huge black cauldron hanging to one side of the fireplace.

He grins. ‘Authenticity. You can’t have a witches hut and no cauldron.’

‘Right,’ I say with a smile and shine my torch all around the room. There is a single bed with a blue and yellow bedspread at one end, and a small wooden table and four chairs in the middle. The wooden shelves have stuff on them, an axe, nets, knives, tin boxes, bowls, worn books, mortar and pestle, wooden spikes, dark gunny sacks. I guess they are a hunter’s utensils.

Shane opens a box of candles and lights some. There are windows, but their shutters are closed. Strands of mushrooms are drying from a string hung across the firewood. There is the smell of earth and burning wood. In another corner there are bunches of herbs hanging from the ceiling. There is a large rocking chair next to the fireplace. It has an old cushion on it.

‘Monsieur Chevalier uses this cabin a lot during the truffle hunting season,’ he explains with a smile. ‘I think it gives him a break from Madam.’

I chuckle quietly.

He takes a brown bottle from a shelf and hands it to me. ‘Mosquito repellent made of herbs.’

I rub it on my hands and legs and it smells pleasantly of lavender.

He snatches a couple of blankets and a basket and we set off again. We reach another clearing where there is a round flat surface with a green plastic covering. Shane flicks the covering off it and reveals a round bench with a flat round mattress and lots of cushions on it.

‘Go on. Climb aboard,’ he urges.

I get on the mattress and lie back. The sky is alive with stars. He switches off the torches and lies next to me. I can hear sounds in the forest, foraging animals, insects, and I can hear him breathing next to me. My whole body tingles with hyper awareness. He turns his head and looks at me. His eyes are gleaming in the dark. I inhale suddenly.

We’re going to have sex in the forest.

And then it happens. A tiny light comes on close to my head. Startled, I gasp and jerk my head around. Why, it is a firefly. The little creature flashes and then goes dark. And then flashes again. Magical.

‘Look Shane,’ I whisper in wonder.

‘Look, mate. This one’s taken, go flash elsewhere,’ he tells the firefly.

I laugh, a laugh of sheer joy and enchantment and reach up with my cupped hands.

It darts away.

‘Oh,’ I say disappointed, but I realize that others are dancing into view. They glow and flicker in trees and in the air, and slowly they light up the whole forest like a Christmas tree giving enough light that I can make out Shane’s features. Between the blades of the tall grasses and dandelions, hundreds of lights twinkle as if all the stars in the sky have fallen to earth.

‘It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve seen. I’ll never forget this night as long as I live,’ I whisper in an awed voice. ‘Thank you, for bring me here.’

‘The show’s not over yet, honey. I’ve still got a bit of flashing to do myself,’ he says lazily.

The words die in my throat when I see his shadowy face loom over me before warm soft lips are kissing me.

SHANE

W
e Irish believe in faeries. The Irish fairy is not like Peter Pan’s Tinker Bell. An Irish fairy can take any form she wishes, but prefers the human form. Our elders claim that they are beautiful, powerful and impossible to resist, which really, is a crying shame, because most Irish faeries love to bring misfortune and bad luck to the mortals who come near them. At that moment in the glow of the fireflies, Snow looked like an Irish fairy.

Beautiful, powerful and impossible to resist.

And I don’t resist. The air is laden with sexual longing, I have a raging hard on, and her white skin and luscious black hair are spread out before me like an irresistible siren’s call. Come misfortune, treacherous rocks, and bad luck. I’ll deal with you later. Her mouth is warm and sweet, scented with honeyed apricots she ate earlier. Her top has a metal hook, a hole and four little buttons at the back. All in a row. Piece of cake to undo.

I pull her towards me so she is lying on her side and unbutton them. I slide my hand in and stroke her silky back.

SNOW

The fireflies are still twinkling and shining around us, but I cannot look at their magic. I can only look at the beauty of Shane’s face. My blouse whispers as he tugs it off.

I smell him, his cologne, his sweat, his desire. It is all male. I can’t help but look at his cock. It is so massive, so thick, and the tip is already dripping.

‘My God! You are so big,’ I whisper.

‘Yeah, and it’s all going into you. Every last fucking inch.’

Between my thighs I am wet and aching for the feel of his hard cock deep inside me.

In a daze I reach out a hand and curl it around the thick shaft and I open my mouth. Because it’s him. Because I want that liquid that’s dripping from the tip. He puts his hands on my shoulders and I wrap my mouth around the shaft and slide down the smooth shaft. His hands are strong and aggressive. Nothing like Lenny.

He strips me quickly until I am buck naked. He pulls back and looks at me with hunger in his eyes. His fingertips slide over my body, possessively. It feels good. I want him to know that it feels good so I moan.

He stops. ‘I’m nearly ready to explode, but first I will take care of you,’ he says assertively.

He slips his hand down my hips and opens my legs, but my body knows what it wants. I lift my hips and offer my wet pussy to him.

He sinks a thick finger into me. I gasp with pleasure.

‘You’re so swollen and wet,’ he says, his eyes dark with desire.

The smell of my own desire floods my senses making me flush with excitement.

His huge cock pushes against me before slowly, inexorably pushing in. For a moment it hurts so much it feels as if I am tearing apart and I claw at his shoulder. But this pain is different from any other kind of pain I’ve endured. It’s a … good pain.

‘You’re too tight. The pain will pass,’ he tells me. His face is rough with a mixture of lust and concern.’

‘I know,’ I gasp.

‘Want me to stop?’

‘No,’ I growl. I want him inside. My body is not too tight to take him.  I grasp his firm buttocks and pull him hard towards me. His cock breaks me open. The shock of the pain steals my breath and makes me freeze as he slides in.

He goes so deep I can’t catch my next breath. He pulls back and thrusts in. Again. And again. I groan. His large hands grip my hips and of their own accord they move back and forth. Shane’s mastery and technique is evident in every move and touch and soon I start to relish the pounding my pussy is taking and the pain has transformed into warmth and pleasure. Pure, real pleasure. My eyes widen with surprise. I never thought sex could be like this.

‘Oh Shane,’ I beg. ‘Don’t stop.’

He answers by grabbing both my wrists and putting them high above my head. He looks down at my breasts with hunger. I feel them bounce and jiggle as he continues to thrust into me. I feel helpless. He controls everything. I am his to do whatever the hell he wants to do to me.

Then he is swooping down and taking my nipple in his mouth. Lenny has taken my nipples in his mouth more times than I can remember, but it never ever felt like this. My body arches with pleasure. His tongue flicks the tips. All the while he is thrusting deep into me.

And then it comes. The promise that began from the moment Shane held my wrist when we first met.

The orgasm.

The thing I have never experienced. And it blows my mind. I cry out his name. I am so shocked by the experience I don’t even realize that he had been holding on for me, and as soon as he sees me climax, he pumps me so hard the platform bed we are lying on starts to shake with every hard slam.

He doesn’t scream like Lenny when he climaxes, he roars and carries on thrusting through it until that last thrust when he holds himself, throbbing and pulsating deep inside me. Breathing hard he looks down on me. I lie limp under him, my thighs trembling and my toes curled.

I am his.

I feel sore and tender, but I don’t want him to pull out of me. I want more. I want a repeat. I want another climax. It felt so good. 

‘I want more,’ I whisper, without any shame whatsoever.

His eyes flare. ‘You can’t handle more, Snow,’ he mutters.

‘I can,’ I insist.

He kisses my forehead and tries to pull out of me, but I grab his buttocks. ‘Don’t,’ I plead.

He smiles. ‘Aww, sweet Snow. Don’t fret, I’ll give you a different kind of more,’ he teases gently.

He pulls out of me, removes the condom, while I lay with my legs open and wait. He comes back and puts his head between my thighs and begins to suck my clit. The shock of his hot mouth between my legs is like an electric bolt.

I start to crest again and dig my heel into the bed, my muscles stretching, my neck arching uncontrollably.

SNOW

‘You want me again?’

I
wake up and look straight into Shane’s sleeping face. Curiously, I watch him slumbering He looks so young. One could fall in love with a face like this. Last night is like a dream. I remember it in a daze. My head swims to think of how wanton I have been. Me saying, ‘You want me again?

Three times, I asked him that. That makes a total of six times.

A secret smile is curved on my mouth when his long, sooty lashes lift. We stare at each other, the smile dying on my lips. Passion flames deep inside me. His gaze moves from my eyes to the curve of my cheeks and lingers on my mouth, now provocatively parted. An invitation.

Breathlessly I watch fire leap into the blue depths.

He rolls his body over mine. Resting on his elbows his mouth comes down on my own I wind my arms around his neck and pull him even closer. His fingers rake through my hair, forcing back my head. My mouth opens in hungry response as our lips touch. The kiss seems endless. As if neither of us can satisfy our need for each other. I feel my body sizzle with need.

He lays on his side, tugs the sheet off me, and lets his eyes rove down my body. Trembling and impatient I slowly open my legs. Another invitation.

‘Fuck, Snow. You intoxicate me,’ he says hoarsely.

My mouth is dry with heady excitement. ‘Do I?’ I whisper throatily.

‘I took one look at you and all I wanted to do was possess you. It didn’t even matter that you were with Lenny. I couldn’t walk away and leave you. I just had to have you. Any risk was worth it.’

‘You’ve got me now.’

‘Yeah, I’ve got you.’

I watch dreamily as his head moves down my body trailing a velvety hot tongue on my skin, fluttery, half formed kisses, or whispers, hard to say what they are really. My body lifts off the bed to meet those whispery, whiskery things. But it all changes when he buries his mouth in my throbbing pussy.

He devours me as if he is starving.

Squirming with intolerable pleasure, I reach for the edges of my pillow on either side of me and grab them tightly. His tongue runs down my slit all the way underneath me until I feel the tip touch my anus. I freeze with shock. No one has ever put his tongue there before. I have a sudden lightning thought – Oh God! If my mother knew she’d be horrified.

And suddenly a flash. I remember the tearing, piercing pain. No, not again. The thought is terrifying and my legs struggle to close, to stop him, but he forcefully keeps them open with his powerful hands. I raise my head and shoulders in a panic.

He lifts his head and looks at me. 

‘I got to have all of you, Snow. Every last inch. I’ll lick what I want and fuck what I want.’ His voice is calm. His expression is as unshakable as a granite hill.

I open my mouth and nothing comes out.

‘I won’t hurt you,’ he says quietly.

Instantly all the fear falls away from me like an unwanted coat and a strange excitement shivers up my spine. I don’t want him to stop. I like the idea of being totally at his mercy and submitting to his power.

He pushes my thighs closer to my body so that he has total access to everything, and he returns to his task of claiming every last inch of me. Holding my cheeks firmly open, he presses his tongue against the ring of muscles. I groan, half with embarrassment, half with electric pleasure. He pushes again.

As his tongue pushes in, his finger enters my wet sex. I writhe with pleasure. Very gently he withdraws the finger and pushes that slick, honey coated finger into my ass. He raises his head and looks into my wide eyes.

‘Do you trust me?’

I nod.

‘I’m going to fill your sweet little asshole with my cock.’

Another lifetime ago I would have protested. Would have said, ‘Never.’ But not now. Now I want it. I
need
it. I nod again.

He smiles and reaches for a bottle of pure pomegranate oil sitting on the bedside cabinet that he told me he used for sunburn. He unscrews the top, flips it to the surface of the cabinet and, holding it over my exposed pussy, tips the bottle. A thin red stream of oil hits me and he uses his other hand to smear it all over the quivering flesh of my sex.

The movement is sensuous and slow, like a massage, as if he is anointing my sex. It reminds me of the dedication with which the priests bathed their deities. With reverence. As if what lies between my legs is precious beyond compare. He dips a different finger, his middle finger, into my pussy and uses that to insert into my oily anus. One by one he uses all his fingers until that entire region feels like a hot mess of saliva, my own juices, and oil.

I sigh with the incredible sensations.

He introduces his thumb. It is thicker, but I am so relaxed and so open to anything he wants to do to me, it slips in easily. He drives his thumb in and out of me. My neck arches. I am ready.

He gets on his knees and I see his cock, massive, twitching and throbbing, wanting in. I feel no fear. The lower half of me is like an uncovered bowl. Exposed and waiting to be filled. He reaches for a condom, rolls it onto himself, grabs me under my thighs and with one swift thrust slams deep into my dripping pussy.

I shudder with pleasure as my muscles clench around him like a closing fist. My blood rages through me. He pulls out and fills me again and again. Plowing in so deep I cry out with each thrust. When I think I am about to break apart he pulls out of me and rests the tip of his cock against the tight muscles that he has worked so long to loosen.

He locks eyes with me.

The head of his cock presses hard against the ring of oily muscles and slowly, slowly he starts to enter me. His thumb had been pleasure but this, this was sheer pain. I wince and grip the pillow. ‘You’re too big,’ I groan.

‘Breathe deeply and relax your muscles. Do what your body doesn’t want you to do,’ he instructs.

I frown.

‘It’s telling you to push out. Pull me in.’

I take a deep breath and will myself to relax, my quivering, tense legs becoming limp.

When I exhale he senses the give in my body and seizes the opportunity to gain another inch into me.

I cry out at the knife-like pain of the intrusion, and he stops and waits for my body to adjust to his girth. I take another deep breath and as I exhale again, the massive shaft lodged inside me takes another inch of me.

Every time I exhale and he feels my muscles relax, he takes that lull to force his way in again. I gasp with the sensation, but he just keeps going, deeper and deeper into my body until his balls are touching my skin. His cock is firmly wedged all the way inside my bowels.

Then he stops and smiles. The slow smile of a conqueror. He’s got what he wanted.

There are tears in my eyes, but it doesn’t hurt anymore. Just feels tight and stretched. I close my eyes.

And he begins to thrust his cock in and out of my ass. Part of me hates the sensation and another part of me wants more. But the more he rams in and out, the more the strange, dark pleasure takes over my body.

‘Harder,’ I hear myself cry. ‘Fuck me harder.’

He pumps faster and I feel as if I am drowning in sensations. My skin feels alive. Another part of my brain is shocked at my own salaciousness. My whole body is alive with nerves that I never knew existed. I even feel his cock pulsing inside me.

Staring at him boldly, I clench my muscles with all my might and he groans. It is a powerful feeling that I can affect him this deeply. His movements become more frantic. And then I feel it, his cock swelling inside me. As hard as I can, I milk that cock. And he responds by throwing his head back and roaring while jerking and spurting and spitting inside me.

He pulls out of me and lays me back on the bed. I watch him take his condom off and then he turns to me and, hunkering over me aggressively, impales two fingers into my pussy. I gasp and he jams them as deep as they will go.

My body stretches into a bow as he rhythmically pumps his fingers in and out of my wetness. He is doing it so hard I can hear the squelch of my juices. I watch his brown hand go in and out of me in a daze of sensations. His other hand moves lightly over my clit, his face submerged in concentration as if he is an artist working on a masterpiece.

‘Squirt for me, pretty pussy,’ he says.

‘Shane,’ I call. My voice sounds broken. And then a wail, a shocking animal-like sound comes from deep inside me as I fall over the edge into the abyss of pure pleasure. He holds me as I clench, shudder and gush over his fingers. I open my eyes and he is gazing down at me possessively. He bends down and licks the tears from my eyes.

‘Sleep for a bit now, Snow,’ he says, and there is an almost hypnotic quality to his voice and, closing my tired eyes, I fall into a tranquil, dreamless sleep.

I wake up to the sound of people talking. I sit up naked and look around me. The sheets are soiled with oil and stains of our coupling. Wrapping myself with the top sheet, I walk over to the window. Shane is below. He has been working in the garden again. His body is glistening with sweat. I watch him quietly talking to Monsieur Chevalier.

Suddenly he looks up and sees me. For a while we simply look at each other. Then he waves.

‘Wait for me. I’m coming up,’ he says, and starts striding towards the swimming pool. I turn away from the window and face the doors. He bursts through the double doors like a force of nature or an untamed tiger. Wicked eyelashes and curving, wet, seriously sexy muscles. His mother built him beautiful and then he went and added all those gorgeous tattoos too.

‘You’re awake,’ he says.

‘Yes,’ I reply shyly.

He walks up to me and pulls at the sheet. At first I hold on to it and then I stop resisting. The sheet comes off in his hands and I stand naked in the afternoon light.

‘You’re perfect,’ he whispers thickly, his eyes smoldering with need.